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Writers Toolbox: 5 Fiction Mistakes that Spell Rejection by Moira Allen

**The Writer’s Toolbox series are resources I’ve found that have helped me in developing my writing and my writing career.  I hope you will find them as useful as I do.  All copyright is retained by the original writer. 

Original article found here.

 

Ask most fiction editors how to avoid rejection, and you’ll hear the same thing: Read the guidelines. Review the publication. Don’t send a science fiction story to a literary magazine, and vice versa. Don’t send a 10,000-word manuscript to a magazine that never publishes anything longer than 5,000 words. Spell check. Proofread. Check your grammar. Format your manuscript correctly. Be professional. Failure to observe these basics, many editors say, accounts for more than 80% of all short fiction rejections.

But what if you’ve done all that, and your stories are still coming back with polite, form rejection letters? I asked nearly 50 fiction editors — from traditional literary publications to flash fiction ezines — what types of problems resulted in the other 20% of rejections. These are the problems that plague stories that meet all the basic requirements, but still don’t quite "make the grade."

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Meeting Orson Scott Card

A couple weeks ago, I attended the LA Times Book Fair, in large part because I’d read  Orson Scott Card was going to be speaking there.  My husband and sister joined me, both also big fans of Mr. Card and his books.  We splurged on reserved tickets.  Ok, the tickets cost only $3 total, but, hey, every dollar counts in my very limited budget right now.  We waited a half hour with those reserved tickets to get into the event "A Conversation with Orson Scott Card."

Mr. Card was, no other word for it, hilarious, along with his interviewer, and close friend/collaborator, Aaron Johnstone.  That hour flew by and it was our unanimous consensus that we could have probably listened to him talk for the rest of the day, or as long as our empty stomachs would’ve allowed.  Immediately after the Conversation, we ran, dodging people left and right, squeezing into every opening we spotted, to arrive at his signing, only to realize we would end up burning in the hot sun at the very back of a very long line.  But, we waited, our fortitude strengthened by the victuals my husband kindly procured for us at the nearby Carl’s Jr.  And waited.  And waited with barely-suppressed relief when we finally reached the shade of a large stand of trees, giving thanks to the genius minds behind sunscreen.  And waited some more, praying we would reach Mr. Card in time.  When asked, none of the volunteers could give us a clear answer as to our chances for meeting Mr. Card, only making vague noises of doubt and leaving it into our hands whether we wanted to abandon our pursuit for another avenue.  An hour into waiting, and only twenty or so people away, we were told abruptly that Mr. Card would be leaving to sign somewhere else and would we kindly leave the vicinity.  Immediately.

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